


Two Guardians and a Baby

by fleurlb



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-19 21:58:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9461921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleurlb/pseuds/fleurlb
Summary: Written for the following prompt:Everyone's calling them the "Space Dads" of Rogue One...what if they really were? Something sweet and cute with Baze & Chirrut raising a baby together, maybe one who was abandoned at the temple or on the streets.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ApexOnHigh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApexOnHigh/gifts).



Baze entered their living quarters and found Chirrut sitting on the bed, facing away from the door. Hunched over, he was murmuring softly and rocking. 

“Chirrut? Is everything okay?” 

“Better than okay,” replied Chirrut as he slowly stood and turned around. At first glance, it looked like he was cradling an old robe. But Baze looked closer and saw the unmistakable form of a tiny human infant.

“No,” Baze said, his voice flat and firm. 

“Someone left her on the steps of the temple this morning.” Chirrut walked over, holding the infant out. Baze put his hands up to ward off the unwanted intrusion, but Chirrut was not dissuaded. He thrust the small ball of cloth right into Baze's chest.

Baze sighed, low and grumbling, as he accepted the bundle of baby. His hand could easily cover and crush the small skull, and he shuddered at the thought. He adjusted the bundle onto his shoulder and breathed deeply, the smell sending a wave of calm through his tense body.

“Who brings a child into this world and then abandons her at the temple?” asked Baze. The baby stirred, a small protest rising in her throat. He moved her into the crook of his arm, careful to support her head, and shifted his weight back and forth, the habit coming back like an old memory as he hummed a soft tune. 

“Someone desperate and out of options.” 

Baze studied the child, who had a thick tuft of white hair and a squashed face. She wasn't more than a week or two old. “We can't keep her.”

“No human can keep another,” said Chirrut, his tone maddening level, as though he was dispensing a kernel of wisdom to a pilgrim.

“Chirrut, you know what I mean. She can't stay here. We're not able to take care of her. How are you going to feed her?” Frustration bubbled up in Baze's words. 

“I traded for some Banthu milk. We'll figure out a way to feed her.” 

“Babies this young can't drink Banthu milk. She needs more than we can give her.”

“The Force provides for us, somehow, the Force will provide for her as well.” 

“Boxes falling off the back of troop transports provide for us. She needs a mother or a wet nurse to provide for her. We can't do it, Chirrut. It's just not possible.” 

Chirrut picked up his staff and headed for the door. 

“Where are you going?” Baze's voice was laced with annoyance and an undertone of something like panic. He didn't want to be left alone with this child. 

“To find something the child can eat. You both will be fine.” 

Baze watched Chirrut leave, then sunk into the nearest chair. The baby was warm and comforting on his chest. He looked down at her and tried to squelch the feelings that were battling inside of him: an intense need to raise and protect the child and a nearly overwhelming panic to find someone else to take her. He did not want this attachment, and he did not understand why Chirrut did. 

He took a slow measured breath, held it, and then exhaled, trying to push the feelings out with the air. He reminded himself that nothing needed to happen or be decided at this very moment. He would wait and, perhaps, hope, that Chirrut found someone more suitable to take the baby. 

/the end/


End file.
